For His Mother's Sake
Disclaimer: The usual. Paramount owns
these folks, they just let me play with them.
Rating: G (couldn't even work in a good double entendre)
Summary: PWP. Spock tries to be a
good son, and reveals more than he realizes. //denotes thought or memory// Takes place very early
in the TOS canon; definitely before
"Amok Time."
Feedback: Yes, please. I need all
the help I can get.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Computer, record.
Dearest Mother,
You asked in your last message
that I tell you about my . . .
friends. //Really, Mother,
I'm a Vulcan among humans; you cannot
seriously expect me to have
friends.// As the mission has actually
been without much interest of late,
general "milk runs" as the
Captain calls them, I shall
endeavor to describe some of my
crewmates. //Milk runs . . .I wonder
if this has to do with his
upbringing in Iowa?//
We have already spoken of Lt.
Commander Scott as he served with me
under Captain Pike. He asked
that I relay his gratitude to you for
the Diobenarian wine you sent from
your and father's visit there last
quarter. He compared it to a Terran beverage called "stout." He
seemed amused that you found it refreshing. //I did not care for it
much, but Mr. Scott appeared pleased
that I thought to share it with
him.//
Our Communications specialist is Lt. Uhura . She is of Bantu descent
and is quite lovely by Human standards. //Many standards
actually.//
She is also musically gifted and we
have endeavored to combine her
soprano voice with my lyre playing.
If all goes according to plan,
we will perform a concert for the
crew at the end of this quarter
cycle. If you like, I shall send
you a vid of the performance. //No
telling how said performance
will affect the rumors of shipboard
dalliances. Perhaps we should not
play both the Vulcan love song and
the duet from the Mendosian
Venus suites.//
The primary helmsman is Lt. Sulu.
It is the Captain's opinion that
the Lieutenant could fly a
"camel through the eye of a needle
in a haystack." I have been assured
that he means this as a compliment,
but I fail to see why a
Starfleet-trained pilot would attempt
such a
maneuver. Lt. Sulu is a botanist by avocation and he is currently
attempting to hybridize a variety
of Terran strawberries with Deltan
ice berries. //No doubt the doctor
and Mr. Scott will attempt to
ferment the produce if Sulu
succeeds.//
Ensign Chekov is working in
Navigation and Sciences. I believe
he
will excel more in the former than
in the later, but at the moment
his youth and enthusiasm require
that he be monitored closely in
both
areas. I must also note that you
and I will need to discuss Earth
history when next we meet. The good Ensign's version of the
Industrial Age is different than
yours as he assigns greater
involvement and achievement to
those of Russian ancestry. //I wonder
if his accent will fade? It becomes
quite thick when he is excited,
but then the doctor's drawl and
Mr. Scott's brogue do as well.//
Captain Kirk has taken some getting
used to as his manner is much
different than Capt. Pike's. He
is at first brash and arrogant, but
I have learned that his brashness
is more impatience than
foolhardiness and his arrogance is not without justification. In
many ways, Capt. Kirk is one of the
easiest humans with whom I have
worked. I believe this is the case
because he is the most
predictable of humans. This is not
to say that he is not complex,
for like many leaders he is quite complicated. But he is predictable
in that the James Kirk who commands
the Enterprise is the same Jim
Kirk who plays chess with me in the recreation room. The captain who
leads the away team (frequently
against regulation) is the captain
who engages in the completely
rule-governed sports of wrestling and
boxing with me. He treats me the same regardless of the situation.
He is who he is; he makes no apology
for it. I am tempted to use the
cliché "He lives each day as if it
were his last" but that is not
quite accurate. I believe it to be more that he lives each day as if
it were his first--the first of his own divinely-inspired and
Starfleet-sanctioned mission. He is a warrior with great honor, a
lion protecting his pride and
territory. In a very short time he has
garnered the respect and loyalty of his crew. //I wonder if it is as
easy as it seems to know one's
purpose in life?//
Working with the new Chief Medical
Officer, Dr. McCoy, has proven to
be much more challenging. He is highly unpredictable, and, in fact,
I find that I am repeatedly both
vexed and fascinated by him. //I
believe he vexes me on purpose.//
If he were Vulcan he would have
the potential to be a great healer. //Though I would not tell him
so.// He has already been awarded the Legion of Honor and has been
decorated by the Fleet Surgeons. He is responsible for four new
medications and two new surgical
techniques in the last decade. His
skills as a doctor, especially as a surgeon, have unfortunately come
into play all too much in his short
tenure on the Enterprise. But
no, I have not need his skills;
so please do not worry yourself.
Dr. McCoy refers to himself as an "old country doctor" and indeed he
prefers to gather information and make diagnoses in the hands-on
manner of his predecessors, but his knowledge suggests the most
sophisticated learning. //I suspect he possesses an eidetic memory,
at least to some degree.// I fail to understand his skepticism
toward technology and why he
disregards the findings of his
equipment, but strangely I am the
only one who finds his disregard
problematic. Even those who
dislike having to go to sickbay
for even
the most routine reasons //like
Jim Kirk// seem to take comfort in
the doctor's methods--even when he is berating them for needing his
attention.
On the surface, he is a cacophony of contradiction. He has been
known to brow beat a crewmen for
careless behavior and covertly
provide another with some token of recognition. He engages others in
conversation easily getting them to
relax and approach him, but he
reveals little of himself. He
criticizes harshly and quickly,
but he
praises lavishly and with equal
speed. He does both easily. He
makes sure others //including myself// interact with others,
especially during meals, but he eats
many of his own meals at his
desk in sickbay.
He demonstrates unwavering compassion
and unerring insight into his
fellow humans. I believe he has
untrained, if not unrealized,
empathic abilities. He is not just concerned with the mental and
physical health of the individual
crew, but of the crew as a
whole. //"Spock, you and Jim can
handle the brains of the ship; let
Scotty handle the body, but I'll
handle her heart."// At first I
found his frequent visits to the
bridge curious and rather improper,
but I have come to understand that
believes he needs to view the crew
in their element to gain a complete understanding. //I wonder if this
is why he, like the captain, is
prone to exploring the ship when he
is not on duty? "Spock, I may not
always be on duty, but as CMO I'm
always on call." "Didn't you know the medical profession uses the
caduceus because we're sneaky
and always on the move?"// He has
proven to be a calming presence
on the captain, for the most part.
And I am grateful for that.
I did not think the Enterprise
could have had better CMO than Dr.
Boyce, but Dr. McCoy has assumed the position with ease, if not
grace. His staff works at high
efficiency, if with more than the
usual camaraderie. I do not understand their companionship given the
doctor's brusque nature and caustic wit, but I cannot find fault with
their work ethic or outcomes.
Strangely, his staff seems to admire
him as much as the rest of the
crew admires Capt. Kirk. I have given
considerable thought to the
differences in their leadership
and have
failed to reconcile the seemingly
disparate styles with seemingly
similar results. I shall have to make further observations.
The doctor has assumed the habit of debating the virtues of logic
versus emotion with me on a
fairly regular basis. I understand
that
our "battles" are already becoming
the topic of discussion among some
of the crew. I do not understand
why the doctor continues to engage
in these debates as he cannot
possibly win them. I would not think
that amusing the captain would
be reason enough for him to risk
losing face in front of the captain
and crew. In fact, all he has
managed to do is support the
superiority of Vulcan philosophy. I
have inquired of his behavior,
but his only response was to smile and
say, "why does a dog lick himself?" Research into canine physiology
has not illuminated this response.
However I do not wish to imply
that he is an unworthy opponent. Far
from it. His mind is exceedingly
agile. And though he is one to let
his emotions rule, he makes the most fascinating mental leaps. As he
told me once in one of our earliest discussions, "Even random is an
order, Spock."
I must close and see to my meditation, Mother. I hope this finds you
and father well. I look forward to
your next communiqué. Live
long,
and prosper.
Computer, cease recording.
Send to Amanda, Wife of Sarek
cha Skon,
Vulcan Embassy, Vulcan and
San Francisco, Earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five point three-two days later . . .
//Oh, Spock. Is it possible? Do I hear the potential that I think I
hear?// Computer: Call up file for a McCoy, M.D. Starfleet.
Currently assigned to the U.S.S. Enterprise.
"Working. File uploaded."
Twenty minims later . . .
Sarek?
Yes, my wife?
What do you think of my inviting T'Pring to the next Embassy
reception?
As you wish, Amanda, I shall see that my secretary adds her to the
invitation list. May I inquire why?
She is to be my daughter-in-law, and I would like an opportunity to
know her better. And she will have need to become better acquainted
with the workings of this house eventually. No use in springing it
on her all at once. //Besides, I want to see if I can encourage her
to communicate to Spock more frequently. My son is honorable, of
that I have no doubt. But absence does not always make the heart
grow fonder.//
// I applaud you Leonard McCoy for teaching my son to argue with
humans, and I hope you can teach him to laugh with humans, too. I
suspect you are trying to do what I never quite could, teach him to
be comfortable in both of his worlds. But it would not do for
T'Pring to be so far from his mind that his passions--and he does
have them for he *is* his father's son--turn to you. I might
understand how one could be drawn to your enigmatic personality and
your inviting blue eyes, but Spock and his father will never reunite
if the arranged bonding were not to take place. You may teach Spock
and comfort him. You may even care for him, but do not let him love
you. This I silently beseech you.//
